Against the Gray of the Sea
by onthemorrow04
Summary: Everyone has one love in life, who was Jack's? A mysterious girl is found shipwrecked in the water and taken aboard the pearl, not knowing where the jouney might take or who it might take her to. A story of jacks life before he was marooned.
1. He remembers

**Against the Gray of the Sea**

I'm losing her, Jack. Every step I make for my father is a step away from Elizabeth." stated Will

"Maybe its time in life, Will, you learn of your real priorities, what is it that you truly want?"

"I want my father free and I intend to return to Port Royal to marry Elizabeth."

"Sounds like to me you can't have both, mate"

"I'll find a way." said Will firmly as he finished tying the knot on the barrel

Jack turned towards Will and watched him, his eyes out against the sea, looking towards the dark horizon. "There might come a day when you have to choose, when you have to decide what life is worth living for."

"And what is you life worth living for Jack?" Jack appeared a little hurt by this statement. "Is a ship worth dedicating your entire life to?"

"Its not what I'm living for, but what I have to die for, or lack there of."

"And what would you know on the subject?" Will asked hastily, irritated by Jack's attitude." I waas married once." said Jack, drawing out the a in was, unsure if he intended to finish the sentence, his eyes were still set the gray sea. The waves were calm with night, gently lapping against the side of the ship. Will gave the idea a half laugh. "To what? A bottle of rum or was it the sea turtles you fancied?" Jack stepped away from the rail of the ship and walked towards Will. "To a girl." Will looked up from what he was doing, catching Jack in the eyes, there was something behind the brown pupils that Will was unable to make out, a slight flicker for a moment that he at first interpreted as pure joy, but then there was a darkness and he wondered if that small flicker had been pain instead. A storm's coming." said Jack quickly, changing the subject, he had turned his back to Will again, making it impossible to dictate his facial expression. His voice trembled a bit at the end of the line. Will stood up and looked in the skies wondering if the storm would delay them from reaching Shipwreck cove, but he didn't see anything from the sky.

Suddenly the Captain turned back to Will, spinning around in a staggering walk as he gestured with his hands. Any tone of seriousness was gone from his voice and it appeared as if he had downed a whole quart of rum in that last moment. Jack turned away from William, have you noticed something? Or rather, have you noticed something that's not there to be noticed?"

" You haven't sounded the alarm."

"Odd, isn't it? Not as odd as this"

"I said to myself think like Jack."

"And this is what you came up with? It's like you don't know me at all, mate. Here." Jack said tossing his compass to Will.

"What is this for?"

"Think like me it just might come to you, or possibly it will help you decide what you want in life." Will eyed him suspiciously as Jack continued. "I admire a man who's willing to do anything to gain back his woman."

"I'm glad you understand about before."

"Me too." said Jack, pushing will off the side of the ship.

"Captain Sparrow your needed at the helm." called out Gibbs from the front deck of the ship. A cloud crackled lightly in the distance.

Jack staggered over to the wheel, his hands clasping the wet wood, adorned with the spray of the sea and he remembered, he let himself remember this time...


	2. Morning

She came with morning, drifting in and out of the fog on a salvaged scrap of timber, letting the gentle morning waves guide her. Her eyes were distant, their gaze pretending to watch the horizon as the sun ascended from beneath the depths of the ocean, sending its first rays across the gray and depressed waters.

Her face was complacent and expressionless, her entire body still against the plank of the board. She sat up with her back arched and her head slightly tilted upwards, a skeleton trying to imitate what had once been there, but now fell to ruins. There were red lips, poisoned by a sudden rush of blood, slightly pursed open as if she had suddenly inhaled and forgotten to let go. Auburn hair crawled down her back, each strand perfectly set. There was a slight curl in the front; the crew remembered it there for it was set exactly against her torso, hiding any glimpse of a stray breast. A coral robe hung loosely on her shoulders, beneath it a simple ivory nightdress, with blue flowers embodied at the sleeve, a detail only she would be able to recall at night when the thought haunted her, the way the left sleeve puckered more than the right and the tiny tear at cross section in the back.

The day was silent as the _pearl_ crept forward through the translucent waters. A chill crawled up crew's spine, like a cold wind against their ivory bone as they watched the woman near. Her presence was eerie, a ghost floating in and out of a mirage of fog trying to find her place between two worlds.

Behind her the fog had cleared for a moment and a mast could be seen sinking beneath the waves, drifting down into the night's icy grave as the sun reclaimed the skies, the depths of the sea a dark cave half a mile away and the cellar of a widow's basement was the only place for the darkness to flee. The ship let out one last lonesome call into the air, the wood creaking beneath the weight of the water as it was crushed.

They did not see the small motion the girl made. She let her left hand fall into the water, allowing it to drift behind her through the smooth current. It was one immaculate motion, twisting her index finger around her thumb she managed to slip off a silver ring, letting it fall back into the sea, the only thing bonding her to her past was a small indentation on her index finger that would come to completely disappear in three weeks time before anyone would notice the circular pattern around her finger.

The surf brought her in towards the ship, closer to the crew. They gathered at the banister, peering over into the edge of the sea to look at her, varying the ratio of how likely their luck was to continue if they brought her aboard. She made no motion to them. There was no white flag or even a single flicker in her eye for a second that proved she wanted to be rescued, but when she was fifty yards out one of the men retreated from the wooden rail, gathering up a length of rope to throw out to her.

The rope slapped the water, hitting it with a dead emotion. In a few beats she was upon it, the current was changing as the day slipped in, taking her away from the rope, away from the ship. She hesitated for a moment, keeping her solemn gaze at the sun before the pirates could denounce the flicker in her eyes that meant she had changed her view, now looking at the rope. Her hand hovered over it as it slipped out from beneath her; the board that had saved her was now trying to destroy her, taking her away from any hope of rescue in these lonely waters.

It was her choice that was so dangerous though. In an instant she could have reached out and clasped the rope, but for the moment she was choosing not to, unsure if being saved from the water was what she needed to be rescued from at the moment.

The crew watched as she looked at the line, speaking nothing aloud as they all waited at her curious presence. She allowed herself to fall forward from piece of timber, tumbling into the sea with gravity at her back as she reached forward and grasped the line. She held the rope with two hands, clasping it as they pulled her through the icy morning waters towards the ship.

The helped her over the side edge, pulling at her arms to bring her on deck. She staggered a moment when first in contact with the deck, catching herself on the wooden spindles. She remained silent, looking back at them. The water had drenched her clothes and the tips of her hair, turning them into limp strands against her body.

Someone came forward from the back, attempting to wrap a battered navy coat around her shoulders. The other pirates caught on not wanting to fall behind. They all pressed forward towards her. The girl looked up onto the upper deck as they wrapped a coat around her shoulders; bring her arms in tighter against herself. She saw him, standing at the helm with the sun at his back, streaming through the gap in between his arm and torso. They looked each other in the eye for a moment, neither one daring to break contact.

Her facial expression changed in a moment. She fell forward into the crowd of pirates. They let out a low sound at the surprise as she fainted, her eyes fluttering closed. The pirates behind leapt forward to try and keep their coats pressed up against her for warmth, but they staggered backwards, looking at their red stained hands as they tried to help her. They allowed the navy coat to fall from her as the other pirates tried to prop her up. The back of her robe was exposed as a bloody mess, the deep crimson color seeping through the layers of fabric, ruining the silk.


	3. Men of Circumstance

She awoke from an uneasy sleep, worried throughout the night that the hammock might toss her out. It made her nervous as the ship rocked back and forth in the night, a notion that was comforting to the sailors as she listened to them sigh in their sleep. Her back was sore. She scratched at the bandage, trying to pinpoint an inch beneath it, but ultimately causing herself more pain.

It was a strange pain. It constantly ached, yet throughout the day she would reach out and touch her back, like a bruise that you cannot help but press upon, as if almost to remind yourself of the reason that it was there or possibly humans enjoy to torture without realizing it, constantly throwing themselves between situations that can only end with sadness.

The woman looked around the small room, still hoping that one of these mornings she might wake up in her own bed. The harsh reality set in as she took in a view of the medical wing, a small room squished with a cupboard of rusty supplies and strange smelling patters. There was a stretcher along the wall that she envied; longing for something firm to sleep on, but the large blood stain across the middle forced her into the hammock. The worst part was that it was probably her own blood.

She slid her legs out from beneath a thin sheet they had managed to provide. Her bare feet hit the rotting wood. She stepped out of bed and walked out of the room, grasping at the door frame as she peered out into the empty hallway, assuring herself that she would not run into anyone. Her plan of survival was simple, stay alive until they reached land and then _run._

She walked down the corridor judging how easily she might be able to attain some food. Suddenly her stomach gave a violent lurch. She sprinted down the hallway to the upper deck, desperate for some fresh air. She let out the empty contents of her stomach into the sea, clutching the wooden banister for support.

She took in a deep breath and watched the sea, focusing on the wind against her face as she began to recover. She straightened herself up, wiping the edge of her mouth on her sleeve, a rather primitive move but completely appropriate in the moment and setting, it was probably the most graceful illness anyone had managed to accomplish aboard the _pearl. _

"The sea doesn't agree with everyone Missy." spoke a man beside her, polishing the banister with a thick bucket of black tar that had managed to escape in the air, making her face twist in contort as he slid closer to her, working the brush up and down the wood.

"Aure." she said, drawing back slightly as she spoke, it was strange to hear her own voice. The man looked up from his work, staring her in the eye.

"What?" he asked her. It was too late, she couldn't deny the incident, for that one moment she had allowed herself to forget and suddenly she craved that one moment, cursing herself for allowing an inch of something besides despair to creep across her and craving just one more moment to be free from this pain.

"Aure. It's my name."

"Ahhhh…so she finally dares to speak. Aure had managed to remain completely silent in the four days she had been aboard the ship, playing the act of a person so completely destroyed and ruined by pain that it left her as a ghost wandering around the ship speechless. "You should try it more often."

"Try what?" she asked.

"The speaking thing, your voice isn't entirely a disappointment. _Damn!"_

"What?"

"I was betting that you were going to last until Sunday at least."

"You were betting on how long it would take for me to speak?"

"Yeah, a friendly game of how long it would take before we could crack you. I think the doctor had today."

"Is this how you all spend your lives, sitting at run, terrorizing innocent victims, drinking rum and gambling?" she asked, anger rising in her voice.

"You've pretty much got it covered, although there is occasionally a bit of bad singing."

"Who are you?"

"Abbott's my name, if that's what you mean or do you want to know what ill fortune I fell prey too that made me end up on a pirate ship, wasting away at sea until I die?" There she thought to herself, he had confirmed it. Until this moment she had hoped that maybe the rescue had been by a merchant ship, a really dirty horrendously dressed merchant ship, but now the truth had come out. It frightened her to think of what they might to do her.

"Circumstance?" she asked, raising one eyebrow. "I hardly doubt any of you are here against your own accord." He looked at her, pain beneath the eyes.

"We're all men of circumstance here."

"There isn't enough fate in the world to doom you all." she finally retorted.

"You'd be surprised how much _fate_ there is in the world. We all have our stories, some may not be as noble as other's but it wasn't all by choice. See the Wasley over there, the one missing his left thumb, a hurricane, two dead sisters and the family fortune squandered by his brother who now sits in Turkish Prison," said the pirate Abbot gesturing to a portly man standing beside the mast. Miss Aure not all pirates lead such a life by choice." He came closer to her reaching his arm on the ropes ahead as he leaned in closer to her. She backed up a few steps, feeling the awkwardness of wearing a pair of borrowed breeches between her thighs. "We do what we can to survive, thrown out by society and where does that leave you Aure, what has the world done to you that made you end up on this ship." She broke his gaze, looking down to her feet for a moment. "I thought so."

Aure was determined not to allow the pirate to defeat her, determined to prove that she wasn't fazed by their tales. "What about him?" she asked pointing to the helm."

"The captain?" said Abbott, his voice suddenly less serious in tone.

"He's the captain?" asked Aure, exclaiming it a little too fast too seem natural. She was taken back by his youth. Though the other pirates on the ship all appeared to be above thirty-five the "captain" looked in his twenties.

"That's the captain." said Abbott, entirely sure of his statement. "Captain Sparrow I think he usually prefers. He's the only one I haven't figured out. Unlike the rest of us this seems to be his first choice in life. I guess it proves your theory miss."

"Hardly. How did he get to be captain anyway?" she said in disgust as she gazed upon him.

"The only one of us that can read a map straight and a damn well fighter at that. We've taken seven ships this month alone."

"Hmmm…Lucky you."

"More lucky for you, if it were any of us other in charge we'd have gotten to the artics when we were heading for Sinapore."

"Why is that lucky for me?" asked Aure, hardly caring where they took her to die.

"You'll be able to get off the ship rightly." he said to her, "I assume that is what you'll be wanting." _Get off the ship?_ Aure thought to herself.

"I'm not bound here?"

"What have we need with ye_?" Other than your own pleasures?_ she thought.

"I've never heard of a Captain Sparrow." said Aure.

"Not yet you haven't."

_Author's Note:_

Aure R, pronouce it like the letter, basically just skip the u

Updates soon, these first few chapters might be a bit akward I'm not entirely sure how I meet how the plot all unfolds, I keep changing it like every ten seconds because there is so many ways this all could unfold, but I'll get there! Keep reading.


	4. I thought you were a mute

She already hated him, for everything he'd done to everything he did on deck. At the moment the only she wished was to get off this ship as quick as possible. She couldn't trust herself to do something she might regret later, the only way though was to ask him directly. She had thoroughly interrogated every member of the crew trying to find when they would make land; Aure needed some sort of hope, some sort of plan. She wanted to know exactly how many days she would have on this ship before her reality would eventually drown her again. The thought of going back to her old life was scarier to her than living with a band of pirates. She blocked these thoughts out of her mind, only allowing herself to think of the immediate action.

"Captain?" Aure said defiantly not allowing herself to appear to be weakened by his presence. It had taken her two hours to build up the courage to approach him, watching as he paced back and forth on the upper deck. Two hours was hardly estimate. She had been on the ship eight days; at least those were the days she could remember. The doctor, a gray haired man who had patched up her back with a pair of crude sewing needles had informed her that she had been unconscious for several days prior to that. She wasn't entirely sure why? She had approached the man with one eye, who gracefully decided against wearing a patch.

He held one hand gingerly on the wheel, delicately adjusting it a notch. He turned to look at her before answering and for a moment she wondered if he had not heard her, she wasn't sure she could dare to repeat the line without her voice wavering. He looked at her, his eyes shifting up and down quickly.

"Damn." he said turning back to the sea.

"Excuse me?" Aure answered, forgetting her fear for a moment as she tucked her hair behind her ear.

"I thought you were a mute." He turned back towards her, squinting into the sun. "Just lost me my rum allowance."

"Captain, when will we make port?" He bit the edge of his lip a bit; she could tell that he was thinking about his answer.

"You spend a week on my ship," he said, using both his arms to gesture to the boat, "Say naught a word to me and expect me to drop you off whenever it's convenient for you?" He was being sarcastic, hiding it with a bit of anger in his tone, a skill her had perfected over the years. The stupid ones fell for it, believing that he was truly angry.

"I do believe you are just as much at fault here. I didn't see you approaching me, trying to find out if I was satisfied with my living quarters or perhaps I forgot to back my toothbrush? Did you ever think to offer me another one, _Captain?_" She wasn't stupid and he knew it. The way she said captain he could tell she was innocently mocking him, putting extra stress on the world without realizing it.

"I thought you were a mute and frankly mutes frighten me something terrible."

"Well then, it's too bad I'm not."

"You're telling me. You open your mouth for one second and now I'm not sure if we are ever going to get you to shut up."

"Where's the nearest port?"

"I don't know, considering we are in the middle of nowhere!" Another hand gesture Aure thought to herself.

"How long?" She said taking one step closer to him.

"That depends."

"One what?"

"How long the rum last entirely depends on how fast this ship runs."

"Do you have a map?"

"I have the map, and you don't, which is exactly why I get to steer this fine vessel and you are left waiting on my word, working in the kitchen."

"Why don't you try to read it, then possibly you might find that we are indeed somewhere."

"Decidedly not, I like to leave a bit of mystery."

"In the kitchen?"

"Well, I guess I am mysterious there as well, but…"

"You said I was working in the kitchen."

"Exactly. You were kind enough to volunteer yourself to lend a hand running this ship, so I was kind enough to give you a job."

"I can't cook."

"Don't care." He turned back to the wheel, breaking her gaze. He hated her eyes. Two chocolate brown pupils staring back at him that appeared to have no end. He couldn't read what she was thinking in her eyes, yet the way they were centered on her face and fluttered a bit when he distracted her. "You and Singa will be the best of mates."

"I…."

"Don't care." As Aure walked away he was confused for a moment, suddenly finding that he did indeed seem to care.


	5. Chicken

Singa was a portly woman, with thick black air. She was short, yet extremely tall for an Asian woman. She spoke without an accent, occasionally reverting back to a few foreign swear words. Aure had already met the woman, pleased to realize that she was not the only woman aboard the ship. Singa had brought her breakfast one day when she was in bed.

That was the worst feeling for Aure, waking up in a strange place, expecting to roll over onto your own sheets and finding something else completely unexpected. Singa was kind, yet strict. She was the cook, providing some sort of nourishment for the crew. She got along with everybody though she was an extremely opinionated woman. All of the pirates agreed with her, not wanting to go back to the weird man who liked to experiment in soups from the scabs on his back.

Singa was not an amazing cook, but enough to satisfy everyone. Finery became less of an importance on a ship. She also knew how to conserve, somehow able to cook just the right amount so that food would hardly ever go to waste and when the food was scarce she could make it stretch.

Aure sat on a stool in the galley, her hands slumped over the top as she peeled potatoes, taking the skin of with a thin pairing knife and dropping them into a pan of boiling water. Singa hummed softly to herself as she stirred the soup and kneaded the bread for dinner that night, trying to get Aure to become more conservative as she sliced an inch away from the skin. It was the first time she had peeled potatoes, once she had sliced carrots for fun, only realizing soon afterwards that it was hardly any fun.

Aure was desperate for some sort of conversation, she hated the silence now. She realized that it had been a mistake not to talk all that time, the corners of her mind were a dark place, a desperate place that she no longer could retreat unsure of what it might do to her, yet at full well Aure knew exactly what talking might lead her into. Singa seemed to sense her need to say something.

"The doctor patched you up might finely there." she said, keeping her back turned away from Aure as she rolled out the breads.

"I suppose."

"If it were me I would be dead, one sight of blood and turns me ill faint."

"It's not entirely the most pleasant thing in the world, I suppose."

"Mmmm…and what else do you suppose, Miss I only have a one word vocabulary. Tell me a story, something to pass the time, its been awhile before I've had fresh blood on this ship." That was the question Aure could not answer. Singa did not turn towards her, keeping her back away as she rolled out the dough. "I don't need _the _story, make one up if yer lifes really that dull. Never mind I would cut you off anyways. I like talking and we can get to yers later when I need a rest. Tell you what I'll let you help me roll out the dough here when your finished with a couple more of those potats."

"Joy." Singa turned towards Aure, waving her wooden spoon in the air at her; she started to speak but stopped herself short. Aure wasn't looking at her, keeping her eyes focused on the floor as she worked. She let Aure finish the potatoes in silence. Aure came up behind her and grabbed a lump of bread.

Suddenly Aure found that she had no clue what to do with the bread. Singa waited a moment, humming against as she pushed the bread back and forth over the table. She stopped herself short as she realized that Aure was not working, some type of sensory went off in her brain when something was not right.

"I'm sure if you just stare at it a moment longer it might jump up and do a happy dance for ye. Now do not tell me you've never done the breads before." Aure looked at her. Singa took the lump of bread folding it over and pushing it flat with her floured hands. "Here." she said, forcing the rhythm of the kneading into Aure's hands.

A bell rang overhead, three times, marking the hour. Singa looked up overhead, counting on her lips as she listened to the time. She suddenly sprang up, abandoning her work with the bread. Aure stopped what she was doing; unsure of if this was some sort of alarm or drill.

"Don't stop now child. I just remembered that the captain requested dinner in his cabin this night."

"Did he now?" asked Aure, attacking the bread while Singa's back was turned as she rifled through cupboards. Aure stopped what she was doing with the bread, a plan suddenly formulating in her mind. "Singa, I'll make the captains dinner."

"I seriously doubt he would appreciate that."

"Exactly." Singa stopped what she was doing and looked at Aure.

"You've got a mite of courage to be going up against the person who saved your life."

"I'm pretty sure that it was the doctor that sewed me up and you, who fed me that chicken broth, helped me get well."

"Your not entirely right in the head yet though I see, might have to cook you up a pot with chili's, those'll clear you right up. Maybe after dinner though." said Singa with a smile pressed against her lips. Aure caught herself; she had almost let her lips into a small smirk.

Aure knocked on the door, three times. Jack called her in. Aure took a breath before pressing her hand against the brass doorknob. She let it fall open. She allowed herself to take in the room for a moment. It was an oval room with dingy windows lining the back, making the room appear rather dark, except for the trio of candles flickering on top of a chest in the corner of the room. Jack was slumped over a chair at the head of a table turned horizontal with his feet stretched out across the black oak table. It was littered with maps and books. There was a knife stuck in the end and a compass, with the case cracked rolling across the floor as the waves knocked against the ship. Avery, the first mate she had come to find, was sitting in the chair one over from him, sketching something out on a map. Jack was making a couple of notes in leather book, ruffling his hair as he scratched it in curiosity. His hair was dark brown, fading into an almost black, cut at shoulder length, yet kept loosely around the shoulders. He looked up at her from his book and set it down.

"Ahhh…Dinner, finally. Avery what do you say to a good bottle of wine and dinner." Jacks said. Aure set it down in front of him. It was a small dish, which she had covered with a rose colored to towel."

"I…" said Avery with a smile about to accept. Aure pulled of the towel to reveal an encrusted pile of…ashes. "As much as that looks appealing. I really would rather…not." said Avery. Aure grabbed the knife from the end of the table, uprooting it from the splitting wood and jammed it into the center of the food."

"Bloody hell! What is this supposed to be?" said Jack, poking it with the knife, prepared to jump back if it should try to attack him. Avery made a quiet retreat from the room.

"Chicken."

"Chicken?"

"Turns out I can cook after all."

"Chicken?" said Jack again in disbelief.

"Do you want me to take it away, _Captain Sparrow_?" He poked it once more before answering.

"No, of course not!" he said, his voice squeaky and high pitched. "This is exactly the way I like my…tar." He took the knife and attempted to cut a chunk off, but the pan was refusing to give up its prisoner. He took the lump of blackened char and desperately tried to stab at it to get a piece off. He sawed through it and ripped it off with his hands, placing it on the tip of the knife. Jack brought it near his mouth, sticking out the tip of his tongue towards it. He paused for a moment, squishing his face up a bit, before setting the knife down.

"You know, it would only be in my manners to let you at the first bite."

"Oh I've already had my fill." said Aure, sitting down in the chair next to him. She leaned her head against her hand, waiting for him.

Jack picked up the knife. He licked the tip of the burnt chicken. "Of course you have." He said before popping the entire thing in his mouth. Aure watched him, keeping a straight face as she watched his change, twisting in agony.

"How is it?"

"Delic..ious." he said, the lump of chicken in his mouth. Jack could not bring himself to swallow. He quickly spat it out back into the pan. Aure looked at him, slightly raising an eyebrow.

The bell rang out side, several times in quick succession. Jack got up from his chair and walked towards the door. Aure followed; satisfied that she had won this challenge. Jack threw open the doors and stepped outside. It was mid-afternoon, Aure squinted in the sun, her eyes adjusting to the light after being in the cabin.

"Let me see." said Jack. Avery handed him the telescope he was looking through. Jack unfolded it, squinting his eye as he gazed into the distance. Aure didn't see anything. She looked over the rail, balancing herself against the wood as she peered over the side of the ship. There she saw it, heading towards them from the northeast. A ship, full sails billowing against the clouds.

Aure looked back towards Jack. He tossed the telescope in Avery's hands and moved to the helm, adjusting the wheel to the right.

"What's happening?" she asked from behind him.

"We're taking the ship?"

"What?"

"Are you asking that because you are a otherwise rather incompetent fool that did not hear me the first time or because you think likewise of me?"

"The latter. That ships is huge."

"The wind is too our forward said Jack, looking up at the sails. "Let them fall." said Jack, motioning to the crew to make the sails bigger. "Second if we cut them off there," he said pointing. Aure stepped forward to examine his plan "We'll cut them off in the cape. They'll be nowhere to go."

"Why are you doing this?"

"Pirates." he said, smiling a bit as he spoke the word. Aure gave him a confused look. She did not care to get mixed up in their business. Two men pressed passed her, carrying an armload of ammunition.

"You're serious?"

"Go below."

"What?" Jack adjusting the wheel again and ordered the men to bring out the cannons.

"Raise the flag when we're in range!" he shouted over to the doctor who was standing bye holding the Jolly Rodger. The merchant ship was coming fast upon them. Jack turned towards her, "Aure, go below." he said softly It was strange to hear him say her name, odd to recall it in his voice. She looked around the ship, watching as the crew hurried to prepare for an attack. She watched the doctor, pulling the ropes hand over hand, raising the Jolly Rodger. She looked up into the sky, watching as the flag caught wind and billowed in the sky.


End file.
